Not ten feet away she saw one of the new automobile carriages, and as she glanced at it carelessly she recognized one of the occupants.
It was George Colebrook, a man whom she had reason to despise, for he had played the traitor in a love affair with her dear friend, Alma Allyn, and such actions as this always shocked her pure nature.
He was looking straight at her with an ugly gleam in his eyes, and Marion noticed that his companion was a flashily dressed woman.
“He hates me, I believe,” thought Marion to herself, “and all because I showed him how I loathed him. If looks could kill, I should certainly die this minute, and yet that black-hearted fellow once dared to make love to me! Oh, how I despise such treacherous creatures!”
When Marion reached the Astor House dining-room, she stood perfectly still and looked around.
A dozen people turned their heads and commented on her beauty.
Dollie and her employer were not there, so Marion made her way to the parlor. The instant she looked in, she saw Dollie sitting by the window.
Marion walked over to her quickly and put her hand on her shoulder.
With a little scream of surprise, Dollie turned and looked at her; the next second they were hugging and kissing each other.